


The Greatest Gift

by cienna



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:52:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2744990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cienna/pseuds/cienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A routine mission gone wrong makes Dick question the relationships in his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Greatest Gift

**Author's Note:**

  * For [burkesl17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/burkesl17/gifts).



> Slight spoilers for Dick's self-destruction arc in the first run of Nightwing.

Dick rubs his eyes trying to will away the fatigue as he pauses on a rooftop overlooking Gotham. He’s been pursuing the same petty criminal through the rooftops for hours and it’s beginning to wear on him. He’s been told not to approach the criminal yet, just follow and keep out of sight – something that had been no problem for the first hour or two but is gradually becoming more difficult. The temperature has now dropped below freezing and he has to be careful that he doesn’t end up slipping on the occasional ice patch.

The worst part is the wind. It’s getting stronger by the minute and seems to be going straight through the high tech material of his Nightwing uniform. There have been a few times now that the wind has blown him off-course and he’s almost ended up splattered against a wall. Bruce would be really disappointed in him then. He fights back a smile at the thought.

There has been an unusual amount of tension between them lately. Bruce is being his normal distant self, but there is some sort of undercurrent running between them that is taking things to new levels of weirdness. When Dick had been Robin, Bruce would often be distant with him, but rarely cold. Now, whenever they spend more than a few minutes together Bruce is generally barking orders or snapping at him. He hasn’t looked Dick in the eyes in weeks. Much less touched him. The one time they had been looking at a map together and Dick had accidentally brushed Bruce’s shoulder with his hand Bruce had pulled back immediately, as if burnt. Dick tries not to let it bother him, but it still hurts more than it should.

Peering into his binoculars, Dick sees his quarry start to move again in the distance and grabs his batarang to restart the chase. He is hovering on the edge of the building for a split second when he is tackled from behind. It’s only his balance that keeps him from going off the edge of the building completely. The assailant is dressed all in black including a black ski mask. He can’t even tell if it is a man or a woman.

Dick fights back with everything he’s got. The person in the ski mask is small but a skilled fighter, definitely way out of the league of the petty criminal he had been following. Maybe someone unrelated? Dick starts to think he may have gained the upper hand when he slips on an ice patch and a sharp elbow to the side sends him over the edge and dangling. He struggles to get traction on the icy surface so that he can pull himself up. Before he manages it, a boot slams down against one of his hands and he fights back the urge to scream. He will not give his opponent that much satisfaction. The boot slams down again and he hears bones crack. There is another sickening burst of pain as he feels his other arm wrench out of socket in the effort to support the weight of his body. A quick glance down tells him this is probably not a fall he could survive.

Using all of his remaining strength he whips his body through the air, swinging himself back up onto the edge of the building. The other person is on him immediately. With his arms basically useless Dick has no choice but to kick his assailant as hard as he can in the stomach sending them back towards the edge of the building. His opponent is hanging on the edge, basically the same position Dick was in just moments before. As Dick drags himself to his feet there is a piercing scream and he doesn’t even have to look. The other person has fallen.

He immediately tries his communicator, but there is no response whatsoever. He isn’t surprised. The wind is fierce now and he can feel a mixture of sleet and snow coming down. His shoulder is throbbing, coming in fierce waves that leave him clenching his teeth. The hand that was stomped on is mangled and bloody. He tries to assess the damage and can see that several fingers are broken. Leaning against the side of the building he tries to shield himself as well as possible against the wind. His communicator may be broken, but his tracker is still intact. They will find him eventually. He just has to wait it out.

***

It seems like hours later when he feels a gentle touch on his face and looks up to see Batman’s cowl. He must have dozed off or passed out, he’s not sure which. At least he’s so cold that he can no longer feel the pain in his arm and shoulder.

“Batman? I’m sorry, I didn’t complete my assignment.” He hates how weak his voice sounds.

“Don’t talk.” Bruce’s voice is terse, but other than that it’s impossible to read what he might be feeling. Not that Dick has been able to do that lately in any case. Bruce is touching him quickly and efficiently, taking in his injuries. He tests the fingers on Dick’s injured hand gently and then wraps them in gauze.

“I can walk. Only my arms are injured.”

“I said, _don’t talk_." This time there’s no mistaking the anger in Bruce’s voice and Dick cringes. Bruce must notice because his next words sound like he’s forcing himself to hold back. “You’ve been injured out in this weather for hours.” Dick feels the brush of Bruce’s hand on his wrist and realizes abruptly that he must be taking Dick’s pulse. “You have hypothermia. We have to get you out of this cold immediately.” Bruce picks him up then, more gently than Dick had thought him capable of. He still can’t help releasing an inadvertent sound of pain when his shoulder brushes against Bruce’s body and feels Bruce stop and turn him so that the uninjured shoulder is pressed against him instead. Dick pushes his face closer to Bruce’s neck and breathes in the warmth. He is surprised when Bruce doesn’t stop him, but only for a moment before he loses consciousness.

***

When he wakes up he is in his own bed at the Manor, feeling slightly claustrophobic beneath a huge pile of blankets and comforters. Even covered with so many blankets he can’t seem to stop the violent shivering that wracks his body. He is also attached to quite a few machines that have been moved to his room, no doubt monitoring his pulse, respiration, and body temperature. He turns his head slightly to see Bruce staring at him from the armchair near the bed, no longer wearing his cowl. The chair has been pulled up close and Bruce looks exhausted with dark circles under his eyes. Dick’s sure it’s his imagination, but it seems like Bruce’s face softens slightly when he sees Dick is awake.

“So cold,” Dick manages to get out between chattering teeth.

“That’s because your body temperature dropped below 95 degrees. I’ve sent Alfred to bed now, but he says you would have died if you had been out there any longer. You’re lucky that your uniform shielded you from the worst of the cold.” Bruce’s voice turns darker and he stands up. “What were you thinking?”

“My communicator wasn’t working. Must have been – the storm,” he manages to get out. He’s confused. Why doesn’t Bruce know this? Things don’t seem to be making sense to him at the moment.

Bruce is still staring at him, his eyes burning right through Dick’s body. “I mean before that. You could see the weather was getting bad!”

Dick attempts to shrug, but isn’t quite successful through the shivers. “Just doing my job.”

“Your _job_ is not to get yourself killed. Especially following some idiot like that. What’s wrong with you?” Bruce’s voice is getting louder and louder. Suddenly there is a knock on the door and it opens a crack. Alfred is standing in the doorway looking extremely disgruntled in what looks like some kind of pajamas.

“Master Bruce? I don’t believe what’s going on in there is conducive to Master Dick’s recovery. Especially since I can hear you all the way in my quarters.”

Bruce suddenly looks guilty. “We’re just talking.”

“Well, please talk in a way so that I don’t have to hear every word. Master Dick needs rest in order to restore his normal body temperature.”

“Right, sorry, Alfred,” Bruce manages to get out. He sits back down in the chair beside the bed and Alfred looks satisfied. He walks over to stand by the edge of the bed and smiles.

“You gave everyone quite a fright you know. Master Bruce nearly worried himself sick.” Dick is surprised at Alfred’s words and looks over to see Bruce glaring at Alfred.

“That’s enough,” Bruce says. “Like you said before, he needs to get some rest.”

Alfred smiles again at Dick and then looks at Bruce. “Call me if I am needed.” He pats Dick’s leg gently and then turns and leaves the room.

Dick manages to sleep for a while longer, but then he’s woken up by his own violent shivering. He tries to will himself to stop but it just takes too much energy. And the shaking is making his shoulder and hand hurt even more.

“Here, take these.” Bruce hands him some pills that Dick assumes are for pain, followed by a glass of water. He helps Dick sit up so he can have a sip and Dick can’t help but lean into his touch. Bruce’s hands are so warm and he’s still so cold.

Bruce is talking now, but so softly Dick has to struggle to hear him. “I just – it seems like ever since you’ve come back from Bludhaven you’ve been determined to get yourself killed. I know you don’t care if that happens, but other people do.” Dick’s face snaps up in shock. He hadn’t realized that Bruce was at all aware of his feelings lately. It’s not that he’s been self-destructive exactly. It’s just that maybe if he did die it wouldn’t matter that much in the scheme of things. Not after everything else – losing Babs, the people in his apartment building, pretty much his entire life outside of the manor. For once Bruce is actually meeting his eyes and he feels the strange _awareness_ that has been building between them kick into overdrive. By the look in his eyes, he can tell Bruce feels it too - this isn’t just his imagination. But then Bruce looks away and sits back in the chair and Dick wonders if he had imagined the whole thing.

He clears his throat awkwardly. “I should have been more careful. I’m sorry. I just – I wanted to finish the assignment. Nothing else mattered.” He doesn’t know what else to say. How to make Bruce look at him like that again – touch him.

Bruce nods tersely and tucks the covers more tightly around him. Then he sits on the edge of Dick’s bed so that the warmth of his body helps still the shivering. It isn’t enough, not nearly enough, but Dick feels his eyes begin to close again. He thinks he might feel a warm hand on his face, but he isn’t sure.

***

“Do we have to do this?” Dick hates the protesting note in his voice, but he can’t help himself. He had finally begun to feel a little better and was actually able to sleep without the violent shaking when Bruce and Alfred had woken him so that they could force his arm back into the socket.

“Your body temperature is almost back in the normal range, Master Dick. We need to reset your arm before it gets worse.”

Bruce just glares at him, but his hands are gentle as he runs them up Dick’s arm, feeling where the separation is. “Hold him tightly,” he tells Alfred. A second later there is a blinding pain as his arm goes back into the socket and he almost passes out. The only thing that keeps him from doing so is the knowledge that Bruce is right there, staring at him.

Alfred hands him some more pain pills and helps him drink from a glass of water. “You’ll need to keep it as still as possible for a while,” Alfred says as Bruce wraps Dick’s shoulder tightly and applies ice. “It’s still very swollen and you’ll need to be careful that you don’t dislocate it again.”

Dick nods since he’s in too much pain to speak at the moment.

“By the way, we’ve determined the identity of the person who attacked you. A 15 year old boy sent by the Maroni crime family. It appeared that he had been treated with some sort of serum to greatly enhance his strength and agility,” Bruce says calmly.

Dick is appalled. “A child? I killed a child?” The pain of that knowledge completely wipes away the pain from his injured shoulder.

Bruce frowns, his voice low. “He almost killed you, Dick. It’s unfortunate. But you had no choice.”

Dick just shakes his head, still in shock. The person had been small, true, but still adult sized. He had had no idea.

Alfred is looking at him with sympathy. “Let’s give him some time alone to rest, Master Bruce,” he says pointedly and begins walking towards the door. Bruce looks like he wants to argue, but follows him in the end.

It’s a long time before Dick is able to go back to sleep.

***

When he wakes Bruce is by his bed again sitting in the chair. He notices Dick is awake and pulls out the pain meds.

“I don’t want any more of those,” Dick says. “They make me feel groggy.”

Bruce puts them away without a word. “Why are you here?” Dick decides to go straight to the point. “You aren’t usually overly worried when I’m injured.”

A flash of something appears in Bruce’s eyes looking almost like pain, but he looks away before Dick can fully decipher it. “Like I said before, this has gone on for long enough. I’ve tried turning a blind eye to your behavior, but I’m not going to let it end in your death.”

“What behavior?” Dick asks. “I got caught in a storm. I made a mistake. That was it.” He pauses, looking at the wall and trying to focus on the wallpaper. Sometimes that’s easier than looking at Bruce’s face. “I know I should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have gotten that kid killed. I – I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

“That’s not what this is about!” Bruce moves to grab him by the shoulders, clearly intending to shake some sense into him, but stops immediately when he remembers Dick’s injuries. Slowly he lets his hands drop. “That’s what you think? I’m _disappointed_ in you?” Bruce lowers his voice and Dick has to strain to hear him. “I could never be disappointed in you.”

Suddenly Dick wants to touch Bruce desperately, but he can’t use his injured arms. Hesitantly he leans in until his face is close to Bruce’s. Bruce still doesn’t meet his eyes, but he also doesn’t back away. Dick feels that connection between them burning, like it always does when they are close. His pulse is coming faster and his breathing seems harsh, loud to his ears. When Bruce raises his face to meet Dick’s eyes it’s all over. Dick can’t resist that desperate pull anymore and without thinking he moves in to kiss him.

At first he wonders if this was a mistake. Bruce’s lips are soft and warm, but unmoving. Dick still can’t bring himself to stop. He wants this so much and he didn’t even know it. Then Bruce is responding, moving against him, and the desperation of his response takes Dick by surprise. Bruce does want him – there’s no doubt about that with him gasping against Dick’s mouth, murmuring his name like it’s the only word he ever wants to hear.

Things seem to move way too fast. Dick doesn’t want this to stop, won’t give Bruce even a moment to think in case he pulls away. Bruce has him pinned against the headboard now, careful not to put weight on Dick’s injured shoulder. Dick has him trapped Bruce in with one of his legs, trying desperately not to thrust against him in case he freaks out. Bruce has stopped kissing him and is breathing harshly against his neck.

“I think we may need to wait until you have the use of all four limbs to go any further with this,” Bruce says, but he doesn’t pull away. The relief that rushes through Dick at those words is so intense it almost overwhelms him. Bruce wants to go further with this. He doesn’t just want this to be a one-time thing that they never speak of again.

“Does that mean you’re okay with this?” Dick asks hesitantly.

Bruce laughs, backing off slightly so he can look Dick in the eyes, and Dick realizes it’s been a very long time since he’s heard that sound, possibly years. “I’m guessing my actions made things pretty clear,” Bruce says softly. And Dick has to kiss him again just because he can. Maybe things are going to be okay after all.


End file.
